


New Beginnings

by AU Mer-Maid (neonstardust)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Don't Let The Tags Fool You This Is Safe For Work, Kinktober 2019, Pictures, Smiles, Wholesome Safe For Work Content In My Kinktober? Heck Yeah, new relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-04 07:01:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21193532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neonstardust/pseuds/AU%20Mer-Maid
Summary: Yahaba does not write down a list of relationship goals. That would be dumb. Shirabu would mock him for sure.But if he did have a list, getting a picture of Shirabu for his phone background would definitely be at the top.





	New Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober Day 26 - Prompt: Smiles

Yahaba holds up his phone. “Smile!”

Shirabu glares and flips him off.

Frowning, he lowers his phone. “Really? I need it for your contact picture. Is this”—he turns the screen to show him—“what you want to pop up whenever you call me?”

Shirabu shrugs and turns back to his book. “I won’t call you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

“Do not.” Sitting down beside him on the bench, Yahaba holds up his phone and snaps a selfie of them together. In the picture, he smiles brightly, one arm wrapped around Shirabu, and Shirabu hisses like a cat who has just been sprayed with water.

“There. Now stop doing that.”

“I can’t use this,” Yahaba says, but he does save it to an album for a rainy day when he needs something to laugh about. “Please? Just one nice picture?”

“No.”

“I’ll send you one of me,” he offers. His phone is overflowing with selfies, only two-thirds of them showcasing Oikawa in the frame with him.

Shirabu doesn’t answer. Yahaba waits. He can’t ignore him forever. But as he watches Shirabu flip the page, a new question comes to him. “What picture do you have for me now?”

He shrugs. “Something your teammate sent me.”

“Watari?” Yahaba asks. “_Or Kunimi_?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“What did Kunimi send you?” Yahaba asks, annoyance straining his voice. He knew he should have purged Kunimi’s phone sooner.

“Don’t remember,” he mumbles. “It wasn’t anything important.”

Yahaba sighs. He’ll have to interrogate Kunimi himself later, but first, he has a mission to complete.

“So...” Yahaba bumps him with his shoulder. “Smile for me? Please?”

“No.” Shirabu shuts his book. “Contact pictures are dumb. Just use anything.” Shoving it in his bag, he stands up and starts walking.

Yahaba stares down at his phone. Fingerprints smudge across the dark screen, but hints of his own reflection shine through.

Shirabu stops and looks back. “Let’s go. We’ll be late.”

“Do pictures make you uncomfortable?” Yahaba asks.

“No.”

“Do I make you uncomfortable?”

“No. I...” Shirabu sighs. “Here. Just get it over with.”

Yahaba glances up. Shirabu’s lips curve into a fake, strained smile. “Hurry up,” he says, his mouth twitching as if he can barely keep up the façade.

Yahaba doesn’t take a picture. “I’ll get one of you smiling naturally.” Tucking his phone in his pocket, he walks over to him, linking their arms together. It won’t be a fast mission. The movie theater will be too dark for pictures. Yahaba will have to wait until afterwards and hope a good moment arrives. Maybe someone will trip in the parking lot and he can snag a picture of him laughing. He could also trip Tendou for an even brighter smile, but it would be hard to do that and hold the camera steady at the same time.

“Why is this so important?” Shirabu asks. He hits the button for the crosswalk.

Yahaba watches the light change and the timer appear. As they cross the road, he wonders if he’ll get a chance to take a picture before the movie. Shirabu’s not in the best mood for a smiling photo at the moment, but mildly annoyed seemed to be his default attitude.

“I like seeing you happy.” Yahaba steps so that his shoes land only on the white lines of the crosswalk. “I like you. When you’re happy... Never mind.”

“What?” Shirabu asks. They reach the sidewalk, but he stops walking.

“Forget it.”

“No. I’m not good at this stuff,” he says. He slips his arm free from Yahaba’s grasp, finding his hand instead, and he gives it a reassuring squeeze. “Tell me, or I won’t learn.”

Yahaba laces their fingers together. They haven’t gone out on many dates yet, but on the few times they have, Shirabu has been standoffish, pulling his hand away when Yahaba tries to hold it. He wants to enjoy the sudden change before they get to the movie theater where Shirabu will undoubtedly claim absolute rights over the armrest.

“It’s not that complex,” he says. “It just makes me really happy to see you happy. It makes my chest feel warm and full. Like butterflies, you know? But less terrible.”

“Less terrible,” Shirabu repeats.

“Not like that.” He searches for the right words, but his mind latches onto a nearby sign advertising half off on all outdoor furniture. He shakes his head. “You know how you get butterflies in your stomach when you’re nervous?”

“No.”

Yahaba glares at him. “Lucky.” Shirabu only shrugs. “Anyway, what I mean is, you don’t make me nervous. Just... happy.”

“Yeah?” Shirabu asks. Yahaba glances at him, then looks again. A small smile curls his lips, crooked and shy and genuine. It ignites the warm feeling in Yahaba’s chest, not at all like butterflies, but like the sun coming out from behind the clouds on a cold winter morning, chasing away all the darkness.

_Slam_!

Yahaba walks into a street sign. He staggers back. His head spins. His ears ring, and as the piercing sound fades, he hears Shirabu laughing.

“How?” His voice shakes with laughter. Gesturing at the sign, he tries to speak, but the words don’t come, so he shakes his head instead.

Pulling out his phone, Yahaba snaps a picture or twelve. Stars cloud his vision, but he keeps his eyes on Shirabu. It doesn’t matter if the pictures are blurry so long as he can burn this moment into his memory forever.

A hand brushes his bangs back. “You’re okay though, right?” Shirabu asks. “I don’t see a bruise.”

“Warn me next time, jerk.”

“Look where you’re going next time,” Shirabu says. Standing up on the tips of his toes, he presses a featherlight kiss to Yahaba’s forehead.

Heart clenching in his chest, Yahaba takes his hand again. “I think you’re better at this romance stuff than you think.”

“I think you hit your head really hard to say something like that.”

“C’mon.” Yahaba tugs him forward. “We’re gonna be late.”

**Author's Note:**

> "Kunimi sent you _that_ picture?" Yahaba tries to snatch his phone. Holding Yahaba back with one hand, Shirabu uses the other to hold it out of his reach.
> 
> "I like it." He looks fondly at the picture of Yahaba asleep on the bus, his cheek smooshed against the window.
> 
> "You? Like it?" A new wave of embarassment mixes with the first, and Yahaba drops his head on Shirabu's shoulder. "What have I done to deserve this?"
> 
> "Many things."
> 
> "That's fair."


End file.
